Tag Archives: Bob E. Freeman

Mr. Glancy Was Right

2 Nov

It hit me at that very moment

crumbling herb at some party

in my t-shirt and blue jeans

that maybe my Spanish teacher

was correct.

True I was not hanging out

at the local Dairy Queen

and P & S,

but I wasn’t that far removed

from that reality.

High School graduation was already

2 years ago.

What was I doing?

I took a look around the room.

Everyone holding a drink

was either going or transferring

to a big university.

I didn’t even have a plan.

Working as a parking attendant

at the race track wasn’t sustainable.

What turned out as a minor curiosity

turned into an escape.

That night was the first inkling

that my emptiness

was something I could no

longer afford to ignore.

~Bob E. Freeman

Snapshots of Lawrence

10 Jan

I washed my hands

looked into the mirror

and smiled.

Kansas wasn’t an easy move to make.

You have to want to find Lawrence.

You don’t wind up there by accident.

You can’t fly there

and no bus or train will take you without

stopping in Kansas City, Missouri first.

I’d left the comfortable trappings

of a cushy middle management gig

in Texas for a period of uncertainty

in some random college town that most of my friends

didn’t know existed.

It made sense to no one but me.

I needed to absorb the history of the town

where modern basketball was birthed

long after the first shots of the Civil War rang out.

A town where Nick Collison became a local legend

and Hall of famers like Wilt the Stilt,

Paul Pierce and JoJo White made their bones.

Greg Ostertag starred at the neighboring high school

in Dallas.

Met Gale Sayers once in an elevator

who I had no idea–before that day–that he was a KU alum.

He looked nothing like Billy Dee Williams.

I once asked a coworker who’d

played center at Oklahoma State,

what it was like to play in Allen Fieldhouse as a visitor,

and he said it was “kinda spooky.”

One of the best years of my life was spent living in Lawrence, Kansas

But I didn’t know that yet.

I would’ve never guess that I would roam the same halls

where Danny Manning won a high school state championship.

Didn’t know how often I would run into guys like

Wayne Simien, Scott Pollard and Ben McLemore

randomly at places like the grocery store or the taco shop.

Or that I would enjoy some of my best moments

microdosing and playing basketball with friends

or one of the most memorable birthdays ever

at an in conference game with two good buddies.

All those summer visits to Lawrence and KC led to this:

playing pickup soccer under soft Kansas sunsets,

learning on the fly in a semi competitive league.

pining to meet someone

who’d lived in Lawrence during the golden age of 1996 to 2003.

Before the development of the west side

and destruction of the marshes.

None of it made sense.

How do you explain the chills of

being in attendance at game in Allen Fieldhouse

walking around with all the ghosts in town?

It was something one had to experience for themselves.

The intensity and fun of various pickup games

on the town’s many courts–

and the beauty of seeing basketball hoops in every other driveway.

Those pleasures would not be mine

had I not taken that chance.

Moved to the middle of nowhere

to a state where I knew no one

and didn’t have a notion of how I would make a living,

or frankly, where I would live.

But it would all work out

in ways I could never predict.

Of course, I didn’t know that at the time

staring in the mirror

and drying my my hands,

before joining the throng

of people playing board games

in the living room.

It definitely felt like home.

I just wasn’t sure for how long.

~Bob E. Freeman

DOOM Haiku

10 Jan

The mask was a plan.

Perfectly executed,

and all on his terms.

~Bob E. Freeman

I’ve Recently Decided

12 Sep

that I’m going to live until the age of 84.

Somewhere in my 50’s

I’ll obtain a PHD so people can call me

Dr. Bob.

I will visit Osaka, Japan

and attend a baseball game there.

Then maybe somewhere around 60

I might be ready for another kid.

~Bob E. Freeman

Casual

12 Sep

Sleeping with someone you casually connect with

is almost as confusing as

sleeping with someone you don’t respect

(especially if you’re raw dogging).

Your body can trick your mind

into falling in love

or thinking that you did.

~Bob E. Freeman

Balance Due (The Gut Check)

12 Sep

Woke up on the floor to my cell phone alarm

going off.

Folded up my sleeping bag

and found my carefully hung up slacks

and collared shirt.

Slowly started dressing in the dark.

I visualized my goals–both long and short term,

then walked down the stairs

and out into the still morning.

My grace period was over

and it was time to put in work.

Goodbye Enemy Airship

Hello adulthood.

~Bob E. Freeman

Katie and the Mattress on the Floor

31 Aug

I. High afternoon passions

her skin complemented

the living room decor

of my studio apartment.

Sometimes tender.

Sometimes erotic.

But never too aggressive.

 

II. The lowest of frequencies

brought us back

late one night

for some herb

and some tunes

and a little bit of tongue.

My intentions were mild

at best, but things grew raucous

with one casual click of the mouse.

 

~Bob E. Freeman

 

Therapist

30 Aug

She told me that perhaps

I should take a break from romance

and focus my energies on being an artist.

It took me a couple of missteps

before I finally took her advice.

 

~Bob E. Freeman

All Done

12 Aug

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/some-hither-others-yon-bob-e-freeman/1137425526?ean=9781634989268

 

 

A Little Pizzazz

13 May

I spend my down time daydreaming

of snagging tough rebounds

then immediately throwing full court outlet passes

that lead to fast break points.

I visualize touch passes

to baseline cutters for easy buckets.

No look bounce passes hit my teammates in stride–

right into the hand that’s closest to the basket.

Dump off passes thrown over my shoulder

into the pal of someone curling from

the paint to the rim

and over the top lobs to big men

skillfully sealing off their defender.

I guess you could say that I miss hoopin’.

 

 

~Bob E. Freeman